Page 4 of The Lion Duke's Proposal
Poppy nodded, though it was clear by the way she brushed hastily at her tears that her fear had not lessened.
Julia turned away before her sister could see the truth written plainly on her face.
Her hand trembled only once as she walked into the drawing room, strode purposefully to the writing desk, and pulled the quill from the inkpot.
Then she began.
My dear Aunt,
I regret that I must write under the most distressing of circumstances.
She paused, pressing the nib harder against the paper than she intended.
No. That would not do. Not strong enough.
Julia made a series of intense slashes on the parchment as she drew thick lines through what she had already written. She inhaled a steady breath and began again.
My dear Aunt,
We are ruined.
The words stared back at her, stark and unforgiving.
My father has fled, and it has been revealed that he has committed acts which have brought disgrace upon our name and left us entirely without protection or means.
We are alone, and I fear what may follow.
I implore you, if any kindness or regard remains for us, you must help us.
Julia set down the pen slowly.
For a moment, she simply stared at the letter.
Then she folded it with deliberate care.
Because once it was sent, there would be no pretending otherwise.
Everything had changed.
Chapter Two
The carriage trundled through the bustling streets, bumping over the cobblestones with such vigor that at times Julia found herself almost launched out of her seat. She reached over to fix Poppy’s bonnet, which had fallen slightly askew on the last big bump, and had to steady herself as the wheel rattled again and she almost fell directly into her sister’s lap.
“I don’t remember London being this treacherous a journey last time,” she joked as she sat back down, tucking in her skirts. “Perhaps it’s all your dresses in the back weighing us down.”
Poppy did not laugh. She still looked drawn and tense, eyes trained out of the window, watching people on the busy road as they passed. She did not even seem to have noticed Julia speaking. She’d been like that ever since Mr. Brown had come, withdrawn and anxious. Julia had hoped that getting to London might have invigorated her excitement for the Season again, but she seemed to have only become more nervous the closer they’d come. The carriage ride they’d been able to afford with their lastfew shillings had been long and uncomfortable, which probably hadn’t helped.
As they rounded the corner by Hyde Park, just on the edge of Mayfair, there was suddenly a large thump which sent both girls flying, followed by an ungodly screech and the whinnying of the horse. Julia picked herself up, checked Poppy wasn’t hurt, then stuck her head out of the window to see what was going on.
“Excuse me!” She called. “What happened?”
“Apologies, milady,” called back the cab driver, who had jumped down to calm the horse. “It seems as though we’ve some trouble with the wheel. I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere until I can fix it.”
“How long will that take?” Julia asked, calculating in her head the distance to her aunt’s house. She wasn’t sure if it was walkable. Certainly not with all their luggage, but perhaps the driver could bring it around later on.
“Perhaps half an hour,” answered the driver with a nonchalant shrug. “I’ll need to take it off, repair the broken spoke, and reattach it.”
“Well, if it’s only half an hour, we should probably wait rather than try to walk the rest of the way,” Julia mused. “What do you think, Poppy?”
